Chapter 122: Upgraded Creation

Its tails cracked like whips as they clashed against Liam’s axe, sparks flying into the mist. The brute pushed back with a roar, his grin stretched so wide it almost seemed to split his face. His bloodied hand dripped blood freely, the crimson drops sinking into the muck and turning it a dark red. Charon watched as the machine flexed, the barbs on its body extending further, slowly stretching towards Liam as he was forced to either relent in his defense or get skewered a dozen times over. ’I can’t let Liam fight that one alone!’ He pushed a new command into his skeletons, ordering them to break from their line and circle the new creation. The Defenders locked their tower shields together as they marched form a semi-circle around the creature’s flank, the archers knocking fresh arrows as they loosed them at the exposed joints. Charon left his regular infantry and the lieutenant alone, allowing them to continue their goal of taking out the weaker enemies, so Emerius was not left alone. He gritted his teeth. ’Gods damn it, I should be in there with them, fighting to end that thing! I need to get a scythe!’ He figured he could make one with the mist, but that would be too risky and could draw his attention away from a critical moment. The machine reacted instantly, sparing no time as its tails lashed behind it, smashing into two skeletons and bending their chestplates in. Their bones clattered across the muck, but even broken, they pushed forward, unrelenting. Charon felt the sting of their pain through his soul, like hot needles under his skin. It caused him to gasp and fall to one knee, the agony unexpected. ’How the hell is it hurting me so much? They didn’t die! I thought I only got hurt when they die!’ His lack of concentration cost him a few seconds of focus. The upgraded machine lurched towards an opening to escape their trap, allowing it the ability to harass them from all sides with its incredible speed. Liam seemed to notice and shoved one of the Defenders aside with a grunt before slamming his axe into the machine’s torso. The blade sparked against the smoother metal, gouging a line but failing to break through. The core pulsed brightly from within as if mocking him. The cultist laughed, the sound cutting through the battlefield like a knife. "Do you see? Perfection! It does not yield to your paltry weapons, for a demi-god beyond demi-gods has designed it!" Charon grit his teeth, forcing his focus back to the fight and away from the tauns. His grip on the dagger was so tight his knuckles whitened. With a thought, one of the Defenders leaned forward and smashed the machine with its tower shield, allowing Liam a moment to retreat. ’It has more speed, strength, and endurance than us. How do we stop something that’s better?’ He knew there had to be an answer somewhere. The mage didn’t seem to be strong enough to wipe them out easily, but it was strong enough to give them a challenge. That meant there had to be a level of give and take. ’A strength this big means an equally large weakness; we just need to exploit it!’ The obvious solution was to smash it and throw away the core, but Liam had just proven how hard that would be to accomplish. ’We need something else!’ His gaze moved to Emerius, who was cleaning up the final normal machines. His shadowy skin was wavering, allowing him to flow across the battlefield in an instant. He cut through metal like butter, his blades never stopping. ’He might have better luck!’ Charon called out to him, his hands cupping around his mouth to make sure he could hear. "Emerius! Try and hurt the big one! We need to bring it down!" He didn’t receive an answer, yet the blonde swordsman still spun to dash towards the upgraded creation. Emerius used one of the infantry skeletons as a launch pad, jumping onto its shield before throwing himself through the air. He landed beside the creature, his blades twisting. One was held up to block the tails, the other jabbing forward to spear through the core. His block worked as intended, the jagged flails stopped in their tracks, yet his thrust was useless, bouncing off the machine as if it were made of rubber. He didn’t even have time to frown before the creature reached out with its claws, only stopped by Liam’s waraxe. The brute’s free hand grabbed the back of Emerius’ robes and pulled him out of the circle. "Focus on distracting it so I can find a clean shot!" The blonde swordsman nodded, his face the color of onyx, before beginning to dance around the outskirts of the impromptu cage. His blades would occasionally flash, hoping to draw the machine’s attention, and only sometimes succeeding. For multiple minutes, their fight continued, Emerius trying to distract the creation while Liam and the Defenders worked to chip away at its defenses. Nothing seemed to cause real damage, their swords ineffectively scraping off the sleek material. The lack of results also caused Liam to slow, his stamina now being properly expended as he lost any opportunity to draw blood. ’This isn’t good, we need to win this soon! Do I need to summon the Zeta Colossus?’ He didn’t want to use his trump card, especially with so many witnesses, but he was running out of alternatives. If Liam died, Emerius would surely follow, then the skeletons and Charon. After that, the others would be no challenge at all in their current state. ’Think, Charon, think! What is the weakness of a cultist who doesn’t just summon machines, but can upgrade them as well?’ He couldn’t think of anything until he shifted his method of thinking. ’His fighting style is a lot like mine, using summons to do his dirty work and commanding them from behind the lines. How would I beat myself in a fight?’ Charon’s eyes snapped to the mage, the answer finally dawning on him. ’The weakness of every summoner isn’t the summons, but the summoner himself!’ Almost facepalming himself out of stupidity, he ordered his Defenders, Archers, and Infantry to make a lot of noise, even to the point of charging the machine with abandon. They did just that, having no care for themselves as they advanced, their shields raised high. The machine cared little for their weak strikes, eager to retaliate with stronger attempts of its own. As expected, the cultist watched the engagement with rapt attention. It gave Charon the perfect chance to find an opening. His head was held low as he crept through the mud, doing his best to find firmer patches that wouldn’t make as much noise. His eyes moved up and down as he weighed each step and the mage’s attention, praying to whatever god would listen to help him find success. They seemed to be listening for once, the rumble of combat disguising him until he was only a few feet away, the mage finally hearing something out of place. He whirled with his arms held out as if to block himself, yet it was too late. "What are you-" His words were cut out as Charon lunged, his knife raised to strike at the man’s chest. The cultist moved just in the nick of time, the blow missing his heart and hitting just below his collarbone instead. It sank into the meaty flesh with a squelch, the man screaming in pain and rage as he reached out to grab Charon’s neck with his mechanical arm. It wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze, but found itself stopped in its tracks. No matter how much strength he put into his hand, it refused to tighten, the fabric unable to be stretched. He pulled back with a look of confusion as Charon jerked his dagger free before sinking it in yet again, this time hitting where he intended. Initially, it went through easily, before hitting something hard. It stopped the blade dead in its tracks, unwilling to move before Charon pulled his back and slammed his palm into it. That forced it to go in all the way to the handle, the man’s eyes locked onto Charon’s as he sputtered, blood pooling at his lips. He made an attempt to speak, possibly to beg for mercy or ask why he had done what he did, but it failed, only serving to spew scarlet liquid onto the Warden. With a final wet gasp, he pushed himself away, his robes stained crimson. He pulled his sleeve back once more, his normal hand reaching over and pulling a switch. Sparks jetted from his arm as he screamed, the entire limb being consumed in the mass of heat and energy. His final breath was spent staring at Charon, unbridled hatred in his eyes. Then, in a burst of violet light, the cultist vanished, his summons collapsing as soon as he left the area.